I don’t know any other man (that is handsome, has a great outlook on life, more energy than anyone I know, has a wonderful family and loves me more than I ever knew was possible) who would sit in the middle of an autumn collage with a dog dressed as a pumpkin for me . . . and do it with a smile on his face. I’ve been with Mike 1/3 of my life . . . I can’t remember what its like to not have him there. He makes me laugh daily and feel safe, has given me a life of my dreams, he is my best friend and the best guy I know.

I don’t know any other dog that makes me laugh as much as Chet. He was brought into our lives six years ago and has just captured our hearts. He’s a pain in the a$$ when you walk him by other dogs . . . and cries when you leave him . . . but he also makes everyone he passes on the street chuckle (with his goofy toothless smile) and when we come home he greets us with as much excitement as someone winning the lottery. He loves car rides and Jamestown . . . he loves giving kisses and peanut butter . . . he’s a perfect fit for our little family.

What I love most about them is that they make me a better Dara and they love me unconditionally for who I am. I’m super lucky and super thankful to have them in my life.

As you know, Mike and I were lucky enough to become first time home owners in May. We first saw pictures of the condo on our brokers website. It was in a part of Brooklyn that we stepped foot in probably once or twice in our lives . . . but we just knew it was perfect. We went to see it in person for ten minutes, late one January night. We weren’t in love with it but knew we would eventually be . . . so the very next day, while I was in California . . . Mike was in Florida and our broker was in New York we agreed on a price and the deal was done. We spent the next few months dreaming about what it would be like to live there . . . then a month painting, installing new lights, new doors, new bathroom fixtures, new furniture and a walk in closet . . . and moved in. I love the backyard, the kitchen island, how big the bathroom is, how I can sit in the sunroom and watch TV and feel like I’m outside. I love that our car is safely parked two floors down . . . that our neighbors look out for each other . . . that the neighborhood has blossomed in the few months we’ve been there. But mostly, I love that its 100% ours. I would be completely heartbroken if anything were to happen to it. That was even more apparent this weekend . . . when I spent a day in the Rockaways.

The Rockaway section of Queens is a quirky little beach town a few miles outside of Manhattan (the NY Times recently did a piece on the town that I recommend checking out). It’s known for pretty good surf and is easily accessible via subway. Its home to many different kinds of people but there is a large population of blue-collar workers . . . police officers, firefighters, carpenters. The homes are small, the sense of community is big. The entire town was completely devastated by Sandy. The ocean met the bay . . . every house was flooded . . . cars floated away . . . the boardwalk disintegrated. Breezy Point, which is a part of the Rockaways, was where more than 100 homes burned to the ground while a flood kept firefighters from reaching it.

Kim (a co-worker), Masha (her running friend) and I all volunteered to spend our Saturday helping residents in the Rockaways with Team Rubicon. As we crossed the bridge, and passed Breezy Point, we came upon a huge parking lot filled with trash (image from Gawker). This isn’t a pile of chicken bones, dirty napkins and takeout boxes. In this pile are wedding photos, stuffed animals, family heirlooms that have lasted decades.

We completely gutted two houses that were right near the beach. When we left the houses were beams and cement floors. Here is the beginning of the trash pile.

You’ll notice that the streets are covered in sand and abandoned (and salt water filled) cars are just pushed to the side.

During our mini lunch break we walked up onto the boardwalk.

Here are two pictures from Gawker.

Here is one of the men that we helped (along with our Team Rubicon captain). He went to check on his downstairs tenant during the storm and was immediately washed down the street by the current . . . only to be saved by being pinned to an abandoned car. He’s lived in the Rockaways his entire life and was so thankful to have us there.

A very satisfying day . . . but we only helped two homeowners . . . there are thousands more that are in need.

I really only have to post pictures and you will understand my appreciation and fascination with this quilt artist. If his works of art were paintings or drawings, I would be impressed, but they are made of fabric! They are DEVINE. I spent as much time as I could with David last week, hoping that some of his creativity would rub off on me.

I saw my first David Taylor in May of 2008.

This is Tinker:

This is COMPLETELY made out of fabric. No painting at all. The threadwork on this, and all of David’s quilts, is done by machine and is spectacular.

Here is a closeup of Tinker’s flower:

He does all his applique by hand. I think there are 400 individual pine needles on this piece, which is 4 ft by 6 ft.

This is his most recent piece, Maynard, it is 7 ft by 5 ft.

Yep, it’s a bulldog’s butt!

One of my favorite David Taylor quilts is called Marmalade . . . I’d call it Willie Dilly.

I heard David lecture at the Brandon Piecemakers and Feather Princess guilds, and took a class from him. All of his works start with a photo. He is such a talent!

(I haven’t shown my work in a while because I’m quilting a Jane, and they take a lot of time.)